


Icarus

by Iolre



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build, Struggling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolre/pseuds/Iolre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin doesn't like to think about what happened, long ago. But he doesn't like thinking about the future, either. When a series of events causes him to rethink his perspective, he turns to someone he can rely on for help and finds something more than he anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> **This fic is currently on hiatus. I do plan to return and finish it at some point, because I do enjoy this pairing, but I don't know when that will be.**
> 
> I couldn't decide between a connected story and a series of vignettes, so I did both. This is the series of 260-word 'chapters' that are all connected into a long, Martin/Douglas story. :D
> 
> You can follow me for updates [here](http://iolre.tumblr.com).
> 
> You can prompt CP prompts from my beta and I [here!](http://fandotprompts.tumblr.com)

Martin didn’t like to think much about what it was like, before he came to MJN. Before he was greeted with Arthur’s wide grins and Douglas’s sharp tongue. He tried not to lay on his small, thin bed and read his aviation books and remember. Times long ago, where it was just him and his studies as he struggled to pass tests that seemed to come easily to others.

His phone rang and he picked it up, pressing it absently to his ear. “Martin Crieff speaking.”

“Good god, Martin, you didn’t call yourself a Captain?” Douglas sounded in good spirits, far too cheerful. Martin scowled at the wall, his skin prickling with irritation.

“Douglas, it is merely a way to answer a phone,” Martin said testily. “Besides, it’s not like anyone other than you or Carolyn call me.”

There was a noise, and an irritated huff. “Martin?” Carolyn’s voice was annoyed.

“Yes?” he propped himself up, dog-earing the page he was reading out of habit.

“We are flying a client out to Tokyo tomorrow,” she said curtly. “The pickup will be at 6:30am sharp. Don’t be late.”

“I’m never the late one -” Martin tried to protest, but the line went dead before he could finish. He stared at the shabby phone, a hand-me-down from a student who had left it behind. With a sigh he pushed himself up and stretched until he could reach his diary. He thumbed through the pages until he reached the current date. There were two jobs to cancel for tomorrow, thanks to Carolyn’s announcement.


	2. Balance

Martin stared at the paper, ran his hand through his hair. No. He did the sums again, desperate for them to give him a different answer. His chair creaked as he leaned back. It was a rickety thing, far too old and a hand-me-down from one of the students who had lived there years ago, but it was functional and that was what mattered to Martin. “No.” He was 50 pounds short for his rent next month and he had no money for food.

His only option was to pick up more jobs for Icarus. Grabbing his diary off the bed, he opened it and skimmed the next week. His heart sank. He needed time off to secure at least two jobs for Icarus, just for rent, and Carolyn had him booked the entire week, including a night’s stay in two different cities. Good for MJN, bad for Martin’s wallet.

Instead, Martin pushed himself. Snatched maybe four hour’s sleep while in Fitton. He fit in the two jobs he needed, and was able to pay his rent and eat a meal a day. Martin ignored the glances Douglas gave him when he snapped at Douglas over nothing. He ignored the look Arthur gave him, like a kicked puppy, when Martin lost his temper over Arthur’s attempt to cater. Carolyn took him aside, after the last flight, and told him to get it together.

His life was falling apart, and he did not know how to hold it together. Time, Martin told himself. In time, he would find the right balance.


End file.
